are powers
of peace to a man. It seemed there was no other place where I could
rest in peace of mind. The longing for my son was on me,--but the war
still raged, and I had no mind for that,--yet I was glad my boy was
taking his part in the world out of which I had dropped. For one thing
it seemed as if he were more my own than if he lived in Leauvite on
the banker's bounty. I would not go back there and meet the contempt
of Peter Craigmile, for he never could forget that I had taken his
sister out of hand, and she gone--man--it was all too sad. How did I
know how my son had been taught to think on me? I could not go back
when I would.

"His name was Richard--my boy's. If he came alive from the army I do
not know,--See? Here is where I found another vein, and I have
followed it on there to the end of this other branch of the passage,
and not exhausted it yet. Here's maybe another twenty years' work for
some man. Now, wasn't it a great work for one man alone, to tunnel
through that rock to the fall? No one man needs all that wealth. I've
often thought of Ireland and the poverty we left there. If I had my
boy to hearten me, I could do something for them now. We'll go back
and sleep, for it's the trail for me to-morrow, and to go and come
quickly, before the snow falls. Come!"

They returned in silence to the shed. The torch had burned well down
into the clay handle, and Larry Kildene extinguished the last sparks
before they crept through the fodder to their room in the shed. The
fire of logs was almost out, and the place growing cold.

"You'll find the gold in a strong box made of hewn logs, buried in the
ground underneath the wood in the addition to the cabin. There's no
need to go to it yet, not until you need money. I'll show you how I
prepare it for use, in the morning. I do it in the room I made there
near the fall. It's the most secret place a man ever had for such
work."

Larry stretched himself in his bunk and was soon sleeping soundly. Not
so the younger man. He could not compose himself after the excitement
of the evening. He tossed and turned until morning found him weary and
worn, but with his troubled mind more at rest than it had been for
many months. He had fought out his battle, at least for the time
being, and was at peace.

Harry King rose and went out into the cold morning air and was
refreshed. He brought in a large handful of pine cones and made a
roaring fire in the chimney he had built, befor